


No one touches the Witcher's Bard

by Jaskiers_BrokenLute



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types, Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski
Genre: Established Relationship, Jealousy, M/M, Neck Kissing, No Smut, Possessive Behavior, Possessive Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Public Display of Affection, Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-03
Updated: 2020-03-03
Packaged: 2021-02-28 04:33:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,762
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22997755
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jaskiers_BrokenLute/pseuds/Jaskiers_BrokenLute
Summary: Someone is flirting with Geralt's bard and he makes it very clear that Jaskier is taken.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 10
Kudos: 735





	No one touches the Witcher's Bard

Geralt had been dragged to a few more god awful gatherings by his bard since the first time, none had been as tremendously horrible as the first had turned out to be, but that doesn't mean he enjoys it.

He did like watching Jaskier in his element, singing and dancing around with pure happiness and pride glowing off of him, he could suffer an evening of encounters for the smile that graced Jaskier's lips.

And he had to admit, it was very hard to say no to the bard, especially when he looked up at Geralt with big blue eyes and a small smile on his face, which just enough self-satisfaction behind it to say he knew he would be accompanied by his witcher.

Even knowing he wouldn't be denied he jumped up with excitement and wrapped his arms around Geralt's neck, who in turn rolled his eyes and automatically grabbed the bard's waist.   
He pulled back, hurriedly kissed Geralt and pulled away to ramble about his outfit in a matter of second.  
Geralt could hardly regret the decision at that moment. 

Now, however, as he sits in the corner of yet another ballroom with drunk and overly-friendly people surrounding him he could feel the minutes passing by as slow as ever. 

He sat tight though, fighting against the part of him that longed to be alone with Jaskier in their inn room, quiet (or as quiet as you can be with Jaskier in your company) and peaceful. 

Getting himself by was simply an act of staring down the bard as he performed,  
Jaskier would turn every few minutes to meet his gaze, offering up a smile, wink, or some other vulgar expression from across the room.  
Geralt could spare back a quirk of his lips or simply stare back, Jaskier seemed indifferent either way. 

Geralt swallowed down his third cup of ale, noticing Jaskier bounding up to him, seemingly done with his first set of songs. 

He quickly noted the slight rush to Jaskier's steps and subtle uncomfortable air about him. 

"What's wrong?" He asked, his worry shallow since most of these parties involved some past cuckold catching up with him. 

"That man is going to approach me, the one with the big beard and black tunic," He said, not looking behind him but moving out of Geralt's line of vision so he could spot said man. 

"Did you do something to him, or his wife, or son, or-"

"No, Geralt I did not," He cut him off, trying to seem offended by the accusation, but both of them knowing it was the most likely scenario. 

"He wants me to do something with him. And lords aren't privy to being told no." He explained, sitting down across from Geralt. 

The witcher growled under his breath, his eyes scanning over the man once more, now taking note of the way he kept glancing over to where they were seated. 

"Don't worry darling, he won't come near me if you're here," Jaskier tried to assure him, seeing the animalistic way he was sizing up the lord. 

"Will he refrain from looking at you like a piece of meat just because I'm here?" He shot back, trying not to direct his anger anywhere but who it should be focused on. 

"Well no, but you can't stop people looking Geralt. Just keep in mind," He leaned across the table close enough that their noses were inches from touching,  
"You're the only one who gets to touch." He whispered with a smirk on his face. 

He pulled back quickly, winking over his shoulder as he began back towards his stage.

Geralt was a bit more at ease after that, if not more eager to be back at the inn. 

Jaskier got through the second and last half of his performance, bowing to the host of the party and beginning to put his lute back in his case. 

The lord they had discussed earlier saw this as the perfect moment to approach the bard, excusing himself from the conversation he'd been in when he saw that Jaskier was alone. 

"You performed beautifully," He spoke from behind Jaskier, who jumped at the unexpected noise but quickly gained his composure and turned to meet his eye, shrinking back a little when he saw who had commented on his performance. 

"Thank you, I'm glad you enjoyed it my lord." He kept his stance professional, reaching out his hand to shake that of the other man's, not overly-excited to touch him in even the slightest way. 

"Oh please, no need for formalities, you can call me Joseph." He accepted Jaskier's hand, but instead of shaking it raised it to his mouth and kissed the backside of it. Jaskier bit back a grimace and smiled up at the man. 

"Do you have a lady waiting for you after this?" He asked, letting go of Jaskier's hand. 

"No actually, but I - ah, Geralt!" He lit up when he saw Geralt approaching the two, he noted the way his hands had curled into fists and he was staring deliberately at Joseph instead of Jaskier. 

"Joseph, this is Geralt," He switched the route of the conversation, Joseph turning to see who Jaskier had been referring to, clearly annoyed at his question going mostly unanswered. 

Geralt offered him no greeting, simply walked straight passed him and beside Jaskier.

"Are you ready to go?" He asked, reaching back to place on hand on Jaskier's backside, who yelped and flushed red, glaring up half-heartedly at Geralt. 

"Almost," He answered, using his hand to remove Geralt's from his arse and turned around to close his lute case. 

Geralt caught how Joseph's eyes followed Jaskier's bottom when he leaned down to reach the case. 

Jaskier just caught out of his peripheral vision has Geralt took a step towards Joseph, probably to rip his arms off with his bare hands, spun around quickly and grabbed Geralt, trying his very hardest to stop a scene from breaking out. 

"Ready now," He said, pulling Geralt back to his side.  
Joseph was seemingly oblivious to the storm brewing inside of Geralt with every second he stayed where he was. 

Geralt pulled Jaskier as close to his side as he could without the two molding into one, trying to make it very clear the Jaskier was taken. 

"Will you be passing through here again?" Joseph asked before Jaskier could pull Geralt out of the situation. 

Inside he was cursing the man for not taking the hints, which were frankly as subtle as a forest fire. 

Geralt growled low in his throat, just enough that Jaskier could hear the anger dangerously brewing inside of him. 

Geralt leaned down burying his face into the crook of Jaskier's neck, peppering small kissed and occasional nips at his skin, making quick work at getting right where Jaskier was most sensitive, just on top of a healing bruise. 

"Well -Ah- with the whole, traveling bard, mmh- thing I don't have a uh, set schedule. Geralt," He bit out the word, driving his elbow into the witcher's side, which only succeeded in causing Geralt to bite down fully on his pulse point, surely renewing the bruise. 

"Oh god, Geralt doesn't usually come to the same place twice unless he's -fuck- asked back through a contract." Jaskier was burning red with a mix of humiliation and arousal by the time his ramble was over.  
Joseph looked thoroughly uncomfortable and quickly excused himself, finally finding his sense of self-preservation in the face of a possessive Witcher.

Once he was out of sight Jaskier shoved Geralt away from him, who wiped his wet lips on his sleeve and smirk at Jaskier, his tunic was ruffled in the front and this pale neck now stood out with red and purple marks, clear as day for the entire hall to see. 

Jaskier tried to pull the collar of his shirt up, failing to cover the marks and instead grabbed Geralt's hand with an indignent huff and dragged him from the room. 

"You are impossible," He fumed, but couldn't find it in him to truly be mad, not with the buzzing, intoxicating feeling beneath his skin. 

The second they were out of the room and into the hallway Geralt grabbed Jaskier by his hips and shoved him against the wall. 

"Geralt what are-" He cut him off with a hard, open-mouthed kiss. Jaskier moaned into his mouth and melted against both Geralt and the stone wall behind him. 

Geralt ran one hand between their bodies and under Jaskier's shirt to rub circles onto the skin of his stomach, his other hand behind Jaskier's neck to deepen the kiss. 

"God Geralt at least wait until we aren't in public," He panted, half-heartedly. pulling Geralt away from him with a grip on his hair. 

Geralt ignored Jaskier and listened to the burning inside of him, the need to claim Jaskier as his own, prove that he belonged to him. 

He ducked down and re-attached his mouth to the opposite side of Jaskier's neck, ripping his shirt open enough to reach the pale expanse of his unmarked collar bone and chest. 

"Geralt!" He gasped, his hands wrapping around Geralt's neck and burying into his hair respectively scrambling for purchase. 

"Hmm," He acknowledged, wedging one of his legs between Jaskier's, earning a breathy moan that only encouraged his ministrations. 

Jaskier could feel his knees buckling underneath him, all the fight leaving him in place of the need building up with ever kiss and press of Geralt's thigh between his. 

"Fuck Geralt, Inn, now." He shoved at Geralt's shoulders, who complied and pulled away. 

Jaskier looked absolutely wrecked, his lips were red and swollen, his cheeks flushed a bright pink that matched the markings down his neck and chest. 

He was breathing heavily, his glazed-over eyes staring up at Geralt sinfully. 

He smiled and grabbed Jaskier, swinging him over his shoulder like he weighed nothing at all.

"Geralt! Put me down!" He laughed, hitting Geralt's back with his fists, not enough to hurt (although he probably couldn't hurt him if he tried). 

The witcher ignored him and carried his bard out of the building and all the way back to the inn, and to Jaskier's absolute mortification, passed many people, plenty of then whispering or giggling to themselves at the sight. 

"I swear to god Geralt," He sighed, hiding his burning face into Geralt's back. 

"I'm sorry, did you not want to go back to the room and fuck?" Jaskier gasped at the shameless words,

"Well, when you put it that way-


End file.
